Through Broken Glass
by xFumblingThroughTheGray
Summary: He's like broken glass; beautiful but with edges so sharp and jagged that you could bleed trying to pick up the pieces. There are those willing to try and piece him back together… People like his parents, Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis. AU.BL NH JP CQ
1. Prelude

**Summary**: He's like broken glass; beautiful but with edges so sharp and jagged that you could bleed trying to pick up the pieces. There are those willing to try and piece him back together… People like his parents, Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis. AU.  
**Need to Knows**: In season 4 Brooke really was pregnant but when she finally found the courage to tell Lucas Karen died giving birth to Lily. So after graduation Brooke fled to New York with her mother who forced her to give up their baby. Before Lucas almost married Lindsey Brooke came back and told Lucas the truth. After that Lucas fled from Tree Hill with six year old Lily. Nathan, Haley, Jamie, Lydia, Quinn, Clay, and Logan's storylines stay pretty much the same but other characters such as Peyton, Jake, Brooke, and Lucas's have changed. Future AU fic.

`~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~`  
xFumblingThroughTheGray  
~^~^~^~^~^Presents~^~^~^~^~^~  
Wading Through Broken Glass  
A One Tree Hill Second Generation Fanfiction  
'~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~'

**Prelude**

There's a rhythm to the city below humming up into the evening air and breezing in past billowing curtains. To anybody else, it's just noise: honking of horns, the random guy on the street corner drumming away on a bucket and singing for spare change, the trains off in the distance, just sounds of life happening around. But for as long he could remember it's been the soundtrack to his life, the background noise that helps dull the fact that he's practically alone in this world. But it doesn't erase it. Nothing can.

It's always going to be there. Those sets of parent sized exit wound existing in his heart. No matter how hard he tries to fill it, to patch it, to do anything and everything to fix it, it's always going to be there. There's no use fighting it… but that doesn't mean the stubborn teen doesn't try. Strapping on his gloves, he moves across the loft to his punching bag and getting to work. It starts slow. A punch, a well-placed kick but the walls he built around a particular memory crumble and he loses himself to reliving it.

Jab. Jab. Uppercut. _Rapid flashes of oncoming headlights. _Jab. Low Kick. Shovel Hook. _Connection… everything spinning out of control, rolling, tossing, turning… stopping upside down. _Cross. Jab. Roundhouse Kick. _Strong arms pulling him from the car… the pitter patter of small feet moving away from the vehicle… _Jab. Jab. Casting Punch. Double Kick. _Explosion… Orphaned._

His heavy mind weighs down on even heavier limbs and he collapses into the bag, sweat pouring through his pores and chest heaving madly up and down as his lungs struggle to get a sufficient supply of oxygen. Gloved hands claw at the bag in an attempt to keep him upright, arm muscles clenching fighting the battle his legs were losing at the moment. And after struggling, he found strength tucking memories back into the Pandora's Box they exploded out of… just in time to hear a voice drawing him back.

"'Ey Archer, I've got our newest target," she called, her voice carrying from the upper open area of the loft.

A large gulp is taken by the teenager as he pushes himself up off the bag in attempt to mask the mess behind the man. A hand is ran through his messy mane of finger length sandy blonde and muscles in his neck contract as he turns to look up at the exotic beauty leaning against the metal banister. She's beautiful, breathtakingly so, with chocolate spirals of hair and even chocolatier eyes. But Paige's more than a pretty face. To those that control the world through corrupt actions, she's a curse that brings living chaos with the mere flicker of one of her breathtaking smiles.

And he was no better. They were a modern day infusion of Bonnie and Clyde with Robin Hood spending the past year delivering their own brand of social justice. Justice including and not limited to draining the bank account and putting behind bars of a notorious black market dealer, Alexander McClain… the father of Paige.

"Really, and who's that?" he asks between the heavy breaths of his body catching up.

"Some jackass heading an identity fraud scam," she says like it's part of every twenty year olds vocabulary.

After spending his early life in the foster system doused in abuse, neglect, and early trauma's galore, Caine ran away to New York where a kind old man by the name of Mackey let him stay at his gym and taught him to fight. Then, at fifteen he met Paige, who taught him everything else he knows. And in hindsight, it might've been a little too much.

Because she taught him how to control a situation, how to get what he wants and after doing a dozen jobs she orchestrated, he wants his turn to pick the mark. He closes the space between them unstrapping his gloves and casting them aside somewhere along the way. Grey polyester basketball shorts hang loosely over narrowed hips swaying a mere inch above brawny calf muscles until he stops before her leaning with his lower back against the banister and muscular arms crossed over his chest.

"We could do that," he starts, drawing the last syllable out to alert her that there's a contrasting plan underway. "Or we could try something new, someone unexpected to keep the feds off our tracks. Lord knows they don't like it when people do their jobs better than they do."

It was an intriguing idea, fueled by logic and laced with a hidden agenda… an idea that will tell the feds that when they think they have all the answers the two will change the question so she bites.

"Who do ya' have in mind?"

Calmly and coolly, he responds like he doesn't have so much invested in this mark, "Davis Enterprises."

Laughter spills from his lips at the preposterous idea. Of all the corporations in all the world he wanted to take down Davis Enterprises and its assets like Clothes Over Bro's, B. Davis Magazine, and Clothes For Bro's. Chocolate orbs lock in on Caine searching for any sign of a joke but his expression was as stony as Stonehenge. Thin brows furrow beneath the confusion and she can't help the disbelief lacing her tone.

"You want to take down a fashion empire?"

"No," he responds leaning in with a hushed whisper almost making her want to sigh in relief just before he threw another curve ball her way. "I wanna take down _Brooke_ _Davis_."

There's a venom in his tone as he said her name, a hatred that makes her know this mark is a personal target. There was a bone to pick with Brooke Davis and she was curious as to what.

"What's Brooke Davis got to do with anything?"

Words he's about to utter have never been pushed past his lips. It's a truth he knows once voiced will change his world. Lips quiver with the weight of his confession and Paige picks it up immediately. He'd never been one to show weakness, never been one to be vulnerable before someone else but with her he was always willing to try. The brunette's soft hands reach up and cup his face causing the edge of his lips to curl up into a small smile loosening him up enough to let his most guarded secret slip.

"Everything. She's my mother."

Next Chapter: Caine meets his Mommy  
Lucas & Brooke Talk for first time in a decade!

Want more of this fic  
Well there's a simple little trick.  
All you gotta do, is take the time to review!


	2. Chapter One

**Summary**: He's like broken glass; beautiful but with edges so sharp and jagged that you could bleed trying to pick up the pieces. There are those willing to try and piece him back together… People like his parents, Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis. AU.  
**Need to Knows**: In season 4 Brooke really was pregnant but when she finally found the courage to tell Lucas Karen died giving birth to Lily. So after graduation Brooke fled to New York with her mother who forced her to give up their baby. Before Lucas almost married Lindsey Brooke came back and told Lucas the truth. After that Lucas fled from Tree Hill with six year old Lily. Nathan, Haley, Jamie, Lydia, Quinn, Clay, and Logan's storylines stay pretty much the same but other characters such as Peyton, Jake, Brooke, and Lucas's have changed. Future AU fic.

`~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~`  
xFumblingThroughTheGray  
~^~^~^~^~^Presents~^~^~^~^~^~  
Through Broken Glass  
A One Tree Hill Second Generation Fanfiction  
'~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~'

Chapter One

Across the dirty countryside he speeds, a man on a mission kicking up North Carolina clay as he made his way to Tree Hill. 55…65…75…85…90 miles per hour; he couldn't go fast enough. Revenge. He wanted it, craved it, needed it. It's all he thought about though Paige, his best friend, couldn't seem to understand despite his efforts. The events of the night play out in his mind over again as his moral compass's needle fluctuated;

"_Caine, you know I love you. I mean, you're the closest thing I have to family," she starts. It's the sweetness before the but, the mechanism she always seemed to use. Cerulean orbs roll as he bites his lip letting her make her peace and hear her out. "But this is wrong."_

_The bag he had started packing is shoved off the desk, her inability to see Brooke Davis for the villain she truly was frustrating. "You wanna talk wrong. Okay, Paige we'll talk wrong. Wrong is a little kid looking over his shoulder at his parents being engulfed in a sea of flames, their car exploding. Wrong is the same kid getting thrust into a foster home where he was beaten constantly while she was living in the lap of fucking luxury! That's what's wrong. This… this is just justice." _

_His life was far from simple, that much she knew for certain. But the thing she loved most about him was his ability to see past it to persevere and somehow manage to find goodness in his soul. Now though, he was like a man possessed, nothing on the face of the world would stop him… not even his best friend but she did want to give it one last try._

"_I'd do almost anything for you," she admits, her voice rough with tears. "But I will not help you self-destruct. I'm sorry."_

But it failed and he was bound for Tree Hill. Tree Hill. He'd read Lucas Scott's books about how it was more than just a place in this world, about how it's a place where everything's better and everything's safe. But the boy didn't see the place as heaven, but the embodiment of hell where all the devils lived. The devils he'd be sure to stifle.

xXx

It was another one of those days where her heartache sent her to the drawing board, the hopes of finding creativity through the insanity that is the thick shroud of loss on her mind. It'd always been her way of hiding from a broken heart, her way of trying to fill the holes in her heart shaped like the only two men in her life she ever truly loved. It brought her money, success, power, fame but what good is any of that without someone to share it with? Or the someones that matter?

Sketching the fall line for Clothes 4 Bro's, Brooke found her mind had wandered on her again and as she finished the details of the button-down shirt she realized she'd drawn in a face for the outfit with her hair color and eye color along with Lucas's strong features and haircut that naturally pools in the center. Lately, she'd been doing it a lot, allowing her mind to wonder what her son looked like, wonder how he was or who he was becoming.

Having more questions than answers always caused frustration and caused her fingers press down harder taking the tip right off her pencil. Almost a year ago, a call from the adoption service she used alerted her that not only had her baby boy been in the system for six years before going missing for the past four but someone hacked their system and opened his file that linked her as his biological mother as well. Now that he knew she was out there, she hoped he'd find her but the only thing that changed in the past year was she didn't know where he was or whether or not he was safe... the only thing worse than not knowing anything at all.

xXx

The VRRAAOOM of the teen's bike echoed out as a warning to the town that he had arrived… a warning that shouldn't be taken lightly. And down the main drag he coasted looking back and forth at the buildings in search of the little boutique where his target worked. Target. It's all he allowed himself to see her as, all he'd allow himself to see her as anything more, allowed himself to feel something about her, it'd only be a world of pain.

Cutting the engine and pulling into a spot across from the building he looked through the windows and past the displays to the wall of white cabinetry and lavender paint where a woman with chocolate locks that brushed her shoulders as she hovered over her sketch pad biting her lip slightly in concentration. It's a woman he immediately identifies as Brooke Davis. Removing his Oakley aviators and hanging them on the collar of his plain white t-shirt, a million different ways to approach the situation run through his head until he decides that he has the most dangerous weapon on his hand right now… the element of surprise.

xXx

The chime of the bell above the door drew the fashion designer out of her thoughts and back to the present where a teenager stood with an air reminiscent to that of James Dean in 'Rebel Without a Cause'. He had the same slim, lean body type with hard muscles in his arms and chest, broad shoulders and abs protruding beneath the cottony fabric of his white tee that was under a leather jacket. He also had those two true blue eyes that draw you in while screaming dangerous stay back at the same time, blond hair that's short around the back and sides blending into the top which is jagged cut to give the top layers texture and shape, and strong features that make a Michelangelo statue's look weak. But he looked like someone else too, someone she couldn't quite figure out.

He moved around the store, black converse clapping against the hardwood with each step. Though he was looking at the clothes, he wasn't really looking. His eyes kept flickering up to her and there was a nervousness about him that she found unsettling.

"Hi, can I help you find something?" she asks, that feminine rasp hitting his ears and she couldn't tell if he thought it was a chorus of angels or nails on a chalkboard.

Those stunning sapphires met the hauntingly hazel eyes of the fashionista, and the edges of his lips curl up into a nervous smile. At first she thought it was just another one of those teenage boys that had wet dreams about her and wants to meet her but she quickly sees that isn't the case. There's a weight pressing down on his broad shoulders, a confession of deep value on his lips.

"I'm uh, I'm looking for you actually," he says shrugging his shoulders and dipping his hands into his pockets as he moves out from behind a clothes rack. "Looking around was just me kind of trying to bide my time and think of a way to um… put it gently but I got nothing. So I'll just be, uh, out with it I guess. I'm Caine Davis Archer… your son."

Uh, oh. Cliff Hanger.  
Want more of this fic,  
Well there's a simple little trick.  
You know what to do,  
Take the time to review.  
And thank you to all those who took the time to review last chapter. You're support and interest really means a lot.  
**_Dianehermans_**  
**_Sunloissprod_**  
**_Hprandom554_**  
**_Brookedavis23_**  
**_VFBFan_**


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary**: He's like broken glass; beautiful but with edges so sharp and jagged that you could bleed trying to pick up the pieces. There are those willing to try and piece him back together… People like his parents, Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis. AU.  
**Need to Knows**: In season 4 Brooke really was pregnant but when she finally found the courage to tell Lucas Karen died giving birth to Lily. So after graduation Brooke fled to New York with her mother who forced her to give up their baby. Before Lucas almost married Lindsey Brooke came back and told Lucas the truth. After that Lucas fled from Tree Hill with six year old Lily. Nathan, Haley, Jamie, Lydia, Quinn, Clay, and Logan's storylines stay pretty much the same but other characters such as Peyton, Jake, Brooke, and Lucas's have changed. Future AU fic.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own One Tree Hill or the song 'Don't Wait' by Dashboard Confessional. I do own the OCCs and my versions of the second generation.

`~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~`  
xFumblingThroughTheGray  
~^~^~^~^~^Presents~^~^~^~^~^~  
Through Broken Glass  
A One Tree Hill Second Generation Fanfiction  
'~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~'

Chapter Two

To accurately depict what was going on in Brooke's head, to decipher the emotions swirling around in the head of the mother reunited with her son for the first time, is as impossible as it is to know everything that'll happen from then on out. He could only make an educated guess. Eyebrows raised, eyes wide open, and jaw dropped were all indicators of surprise which was a given but then a wide smile slips onto her lips, the kind of smile that draws you in and finds its way onto your lips… contagious.

"Hi," she says as if it's the only thing she could get out, the usually talkative brunette wordless.

"Hey," he responds letting out a breath of laughter at the redundant awkwardness.

Tears welled up in her eyes and threatened to spill but her smile didn't falter in the slightest. He'd be lying if he said he understood what was happening or if this was a situation he'd been accustomed to so he found it best to ask. Call it curiosity. Call it playing to the concerned son cover. Whatever the case, he asks, "Are you uh, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, sorry," she responds letting out a breath of laughter similar to his, which he quickly takes note of, and wipes the single tear that threatened to fall. "It's just I can't believe you're really here."

With the corner of his mouth curled up into a sideways smirk and reaching out to lay an affirming hand on her shoulder, he said, "Believe it."

The act and smile reminded Brooke of Caine's father, Lucas Scott- aka the man she'd have to call to let him know her son came to town.

xXx

Of all the things she'd come to fear the most, this was definitely at the top of her list: to call the man she'd gone years without having a meaningful conversation and telling him the very reason they weren't talking was back in town sleeping in her guest room. It sounded simple enough like writing your name on the top of the big exam and not the big exam you had never studied for. Her index finger hovered over his name in her contacts shaking so uncontrollably that she doubted she could hit the target even if she tried. So she thought about not trying, having a big glass of wine, and reproaching the situation in the morning light when the tempo of the song playing on the radio in the guest room echoed out for her to hear.

'_Don't wait, Don't wait_

_The lights will flash and fade away_

_The days will pass you by_

_Don't wait_

_To lay your armor down'_

A smile slips onto the brunette's lips as she remembers that radio 8ball game she played with Haley and Peyton when they were young, fearless. 'What happened to that girl,' she vaguely wondered. 'What happened to the girl that had nerve instead of nervousness?' Looking down at the phone, she let out an affirming huff and decided to channel that girl… to not wait and pressed his name and the call button in quick succession. The first ring about damn near stops her heart, the second starts it back up again and the third… well she'll never know because he answers, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Hello?" he answers mid-yawn.

"Hey, it's me," she starts swallowing against the overwhelming sensation of her throat feeling like it was closing up.

"Brooke," he says, his voice alone speaking volumes. There was a time when he spoke her name and it was like velvet soft and sweet, capturing her heart and stealing her breath but now when he said her name, there was always that hint of spite and of damnation condemning her for the mistakes of her past especially when he's drunk. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine… great actually," she stammers, ironically thinking back to the first thing her son said to her. There really is no right way to tell him the truth just so long as you say it. "He's here, Luke. Caine, our son… he's here in Tree Hill."

Silence. Dead silence rung out in deafening tones on the other end of the phone and Brooke Davis vaguely wondered if he dropped the phone or maybe even flat out passed out on her. She couldn't say she could blame him either way. A sweaty hand held her cell phone tightly desperately trying to hold onto it though it was starting to feel like trying to hang onto the bar of soap until he finally responded.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he responded without a hint of hesitancy.

xXx

The wings on his back were plucked some time ago; his innocence botched the moment he watched the only two people he ever truly loved engulfed in a sea of flames and the charred skeletons that remained. And from the loss of sainthood a sinner was born. Sometimes, on those sleepless nights like the one tonight, Caine stares up at the ceiling, but his mind shoots through it as it wonders about the view from heaven. It's what's been plaguing him since he was six. Were they watching him? What would they say if they saw the sinner that he'd become, the man that does bad things for good reasons? It was questions like that which pulled him back towards sainthood, that stops from complete submergence in sin but would it save him forever?

Because no matter how hard he tries, the hold he has on the memories of the people that keep him from drowning are fading over the years like the way she used to dance around the kitchen with him as they made breakfast or the goofy ties his father wore with Disney characters just because he knew his son loved them. And with each passing moment, each tick of the clock they become that much farther out of reach.

He hated it… He also hated being in this guest room. It felt like being in someone else's skin and it was suffocating him. Sitting up and tossing back the covers, and slipped on his jeans.

"Ain't no rest for the wicked," he mutters under his breath grabbing his jacket off the chair that was a deep red and matched the walls before slipping out the window into the night.

**Review**  
And thank you to those who have!

**Dianehermans**- yeah, she did meet her son, very exciting :-)  
**SunloissProd**- Glad you like it :-) and I hope this chapter fuels your addiction.  
**Brookedavis23**- I do too but I'll take what I can get and thanks for your patronage :-)  
**VFBFan**- Thanks for the review. And yes there'll be flashbacks in future chapters. :-)  
**Libby**- He don't want to shoot her lol. Sorry for the misunderstanding. The element of surprise was his weapon. NOT A GUN. He's not that evil.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary**: He's like broken glass; beautiful but with edges so sharp and jagged that you could bleed trying to pick up the pieces. There are those willing to try and piece him back together… People like his parents, Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis. AU.  
**Need to Knows**: In season 4 Brooke really was pregnant but when she finally found the courage to tell Lucas Karen died giving birth to Lily. So after graduation Brooke fled to New York with her mother who forced her to give up their baby. Before Lucas almost married Lindsey Brooke came back and told Lucas the truth. After that Lucas fled from Tree Hill with six year old Lily. Nathan, Haley, Jamie, Lydia, Quinn, Clay, and Logan's storylines stay pretty much the same but other characters such as Peyton, Jake, Brooke, and Lucas's have changed. Future AU fic.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own One Tree Hill. I do own the OCCs and my versions of the second generation.

`~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~`  
xFumblingThroughTheGray  
~^~^~^~^~^Presents~^~^~^~^~^~  
Through Broken Glass  
A One Tree Hill Second Generation Fanfiction  
'~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~'

Chapter Three

Knowledge. They say knowledge is power and when you're a teenage Robin Hood, you know how true that is. You know things most people wouldn't like how to stitch yourself up after being nicked by a bullet or other various job hazards, to not only pick a lock but how to override an entire security system, or how to escape from a second story window without a rope, ladder, tree, or trellis to climb down. And off the job, it even comes in handy, like when you need to escape from the ghosts of your past and sea of guilt.

Sitting on the ledge of the window he decided falling from a second story window is a hell of a lot less painful then spending another second in that house with walls that kept shrinking. He pushed off remembering everything he'd spent the past year learning the hard way: tuck your arms in, absorb shock with your knees, roll, and accept the fact it's gonna sting a bit.

"Son of a—" he hissed beneath his breath as the brief pain shot up his calf muscles.

But it doesn't stop him. Climbing to his feet, he takes a long, dragged out breath then slips his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and begins walking towards the front of the house in the side yard between Brooke's house and the neighbors. He's headed to the sidewalk when a voice comes from the porch of the luxurious beach house next door causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Hey there."

His eyes snap up to the porch where she casually stood, arms supporting her as she leaned against the white, wooden banister. was beautiful, breathtakingly so. With baby blues so clear he doubts they'd ever be capable of telling lies, so open and honest that they bring truth to the statement 'eyes are the windows to the soul'. And the way those loose platinum spirals that frame her angelic face was icing on the cake… Angelic. Come to think of it, if he were to look up the word angel in the dictionary, he would surely find the image of the mystery girl exactly as she appears before him in this very moment, her mere presence embodying every meaning of the word and in more ways than he could possibly imagine at the time.

"Hey."

"So tell me stranger danger, should I be calling 9-1-1 to report a b&e right about now?" she asks, the tone laced with good-natured teasing.

She was more than just a pretty face. There was something different about her…something about her that possessed him and made him want to feel, to maybe even care. There was never anyone in his life like that, just a sea of faces that he saw right through. But this girl, she seemed true… and that made him drop his guard and just forget the world for a while.

"You could but then you'd live in infamy as the girl that cried wolf and probably get in trouble for making crank calls," he teases back moving slowly to the edge of the flower bed so it and the banister were the only things that separated them. "I'm Caine Archer, biological son of Brooke Davis slash potential boy next door and you're—"

He left the last syllable in the air until she finally took the bait and said, "I'm Jennifer but my friends call me Jae."

"So, _you_ tell me Jae," he starts before she cuts him off.

"Hold it right there, Archer. Who said we're friends?"

"We could be," he shoots back removing his hands from his pockets and crossing his arms behind his back as he casually strolls around the porch and to the steps. "IF you give me a chance." His hand reaches out and that engaging smile of his grew across his face. "C'mon, Jae. Live a little."

Something about his offer was hard to resist. Maybe it was his Adonis-like good looks, or his charm… maybe it was the way his eyes dare her with danger. Or maybe there was no maybe about all the above. All her life, she'd been the small town girl that spent more time in a dance studio than living her life. Jae Jagelski was tired of playing it safe so the cheer captain reached out and took his hand diving into the unknown.

xXx

An incessant knock, knock, knocking on the door awoke Brooke Davis from her nocturnal slumber. It was probably the first night she'd ever fallen asleep before midnight, the first time she really cared for herself. Pulling the sheets to the side, legs that feel like they're composed solely of lead dangled from the edge of the bed until they find hardwood and balled hands move up to rub the sand from her eyes before forcing her fatigued body to move silently cursing whoever was knocking to hell.

Then she was quick to move through the hallway, soft footfalls propelling her forward in an almost gliding fashion; her quick pace is accredited to the desire of letting Caine sleep because she didn't know he wasn't there. Also, she'd be arrested for killing whoever it was at the door if they woke him. Luckily, the whoever it was happened to be the father of said son, Lucas Scott. The moment the door is open enough, Lucas pushed inside.

"Where is he, Brooke?" Lucas asks looking more past her than actually at her.

"Sleeping," she calls after him because he's already half way up the stairs and moving towards the guest room. "Luke, wait."

He stops halfway up the stairs and turns back to Brooke, eleven years of pent up rage at her for keeping their son from him coming out in a fizzy explosion. "I've been out of his life for over sixteen years, Brooke!" Running a hand through his flaxen mane, Lucas took the necessary steps to get some air into his chest in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves but he'd written an entire book called The Comet layered in subtext about how he longed for the day his son would return looking for his dad and now that it was here, Lucas couldn't stand the thought of being gone any longer. "You're insane if you think I'm gonna waste another second."

So he continued his manhunt barreling up the stairs unaware that the boy he was searching for was on the other side of town.

xXx

The Blue Post has all the makings of your stereotypical dive bar from the smoky haze of atmosphere to its drunken occupants. Neither of the teens seemed to mind though as they dance to the jukebox drunk off Patron. They're the only ones dancing and do it around the pool table and between tables but she said she loved to dance and he was willing to oblige.

Afterall, there isn't a better analogy in the world to describe their night. Clasping her hand in with his, they begin. They step; they twist, they spin weaving patterns on the floor but never break frame and compromise what they're working to build. They remain friendly, keep their distance from anything more even as the pace quickens and things become more complicated. Sure they never fall apart but they never grow closer either until a classless Neanderthal tries to cut in.

"That's sweet but no thanks," she responds politely turning the obviously drunk man down but he wouldn't accept it.

"'Ey buddy, she said no," Caine bit back with a venomous tone that warned of a potential escalation of violence. "So back off."

The man nods seemingly backing down from the couple but Caine was quickly reminded a lesson he always seems to be relearning, not everything is as it seems. A sigh just passed Jae's lips, only to be quickly taken back in gasping in shock. The massive right hand came raining down, striking the staggering blow with a thunderous SMACK! Harsh knuckles kissed his eye sending his neck muscles contracting and his face turning downwards, mouth agape in shock.

Despite the rage swelling in his gut, the fiery inferno ready to burn anyone who stood before him, Caine tried to be the better man and turn the other cheek but another savage blow connected with his mouth. Blood bursts from the blonde warrior's lip and dripped down his chin. The slice was thick and heavy going the width of his lip and suddenly he found any sense of composure blown. The jerk charges now, but Caine sidesteps him like a matador dodging a bull but as he passes, skilled hands capture his arm locking it in and contorting it in a sickly fashion.

"If he is in superior strength, evade him. If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant," he recited from the Art of War eloquently. "Right now, I can either snap your arm then slam your head into the bar until you're a bloody pulp or I let you go and you walk away. What's it gonna be?"

"Alright, lemme go," he shouts fearful that the teen would snap his arm and letting Caine know how in control of the situation he truly is.

"Not until you apologize to her," Caine barks, twisting the arm slightly.

"Ah, alright! I'm sorry," he bellows gaining the attention from the rest of the bar.

With a rough push, Caine thrust the man in the opposite direction of Jae and immediately the man leaves the bar in a combination of embarrassment and shame. Once sure the jerk was gone, Caine turns his attention back to the cheerleader going to smile but wincing and deciding against it. Reaching over, a long slender arm reaches out and fingers with black painted nails gently cup the side of his face that hadn't been struck, making him want to smile all over again.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she asks the edge of her luscious lips curling up into a bittersweet smile.

"Eh, it comes with the territory when you decide to play white knight?" he responds and she leans in kissing his cheek between the damage inflicted on his lip and eye.

"C'mon, Champ. Let's get out of here.

xXx

In the dead of night Jake Jagelski laid in bed intertwined with his wife, Peyton Jagelski. _Wife_. Even after nearly a decade of marriage, he couldn't believe he'd gotten his fairytale. It had turned out the record company in LA that was considering him was the one Peyton was interning at proving just how small the world truly is by bumping into each other. Working together put the awkward dance between friends, working together, and lovers. When it was said and done, Jake and Jenny were headed back to Savannah when he took a chance and asked her to come with. Fast forward ten years and a kid later and here they are a happy little family.

"Where's your head at Jake?" she asks realizing his head was elsewhere.

His fingers lace into hers atop his bare chest as that grin teases his lips, the one that makes her heart skip a beat. He turns his head down to hers and brushes his lips gently against her ear whispering seductively, "Round Two."

The moment the word left his lips, he flips atop her pressing his forearms into the bed to keep from crushing her. Laughter permeates the air and tickles beneath his kiss. Expert lips move down to her neck and across her collarbone turning that laugh into a gasp as her fingers slip into the hairs on the nape of his neck only adding fuel to the fire until he heard the sound of two teenagers carrying up and through his window…

The voice of a daughter that shouldn't be outside at four.

xXx

Nobody really knows how long it takes to fall in love or the reasoning behind it; it just happens whenever, wherever it pleases striking your heart and igniting your soul. Caine Archer's its latest victim, despite his determination to never fall in love and knowledge of the pain that comes with losing it. Falling for her also made things more complicated, maybe even too complicated. But it was like Seneca's quote about fate, 'it leads the willing and drags along the unwilling.' There was nothing he could do about it.

"Well, goodnight, neighbor," she responds, one hand on the front door's handle the other leaving his.

"Goodnight," he responds turning and going down the stairs towards his house.

"Hey, wait," she calls a little louder than she probably should have. "Your jacket."

She goes to remove the jacket from her shoulders but he waves her off, "Nah it's alright. I'll get it later."

He didn't want to go back for it because he knew if he did the temptation to kiss her would be too great. _Kiss_ _her_. The moment he thought of it, he could see it. See leaning in and capturing her lips with a kiss, see fireworks exploding, and it tore any chance of resistance he had right from his hands. Strong legs turned him around and propelled him up the stairs skipping every other step in his haste and his hand captured hers and bulging biceps scratch through the sleeves of his white tee as he spins her around an pulls her into him before pressing her up against the wall.

Hungry lips collide with hers, the taste of patron on their tongues and strawberries on her lips. Then he was hooked drawn into a frenzy of kisses. Lips. Tongues. Hands. Everything out of control in the best possible way. Hot kisses. Fast kisses. Slow kisses. A wild tangent of speeds and heats charge the atmosphere until suddenly their moment of heat is doused by the sound of a throat being cleared.

_Busted_.

xXx

Fingers nervously tap against the marble counter, brittle nails clicking as he impatiently waits for his son to return. He'd wanted to go turn over every rock until he found him but Brooke convinced him to stay; at the very least Caine would return for his motorcycle which was parked in her garage. But waiting meant being alone with Brooke for the first time since she told him about the boy they're waiting for now and he told her he never wanted to see her again… that he hated her. Thinking about it now, Lucas decides to clear the air knowing exactly where the fashionista's head was probably at as she stirred the creamer in her coffee, her mind elsewhere.

"I don't hate you, Brooke," he declares. Haunted hazel orbs snap back to the present and the author on the opposite side of the counter. "I mean, I hate that you lied to me, hate that I you felt you couldn't come to me, hate that I allowed this to escalate into an eleven year Cold War. But we can't change any of it so all I can do is apologize. I'm sorry, Brooke. I'm _really_ sorry."

He wills her to believe his words by reaching across the table to gently touch her arm in the same fashion Caine had done the day before. _Like father like son._

"None of that bad stuff matters anymore, Luke," she responds causing him to realize just how much he missed her. "You're right we can't change any of it. We have to focus on the here and now… and now we've got Caine to think about."

"Yeah, I just wish we knew where he was."

As if on cue his wish was answered with the sound of the doorbell. Brows furrowed and worry evident both parents' features as they abandoned their cups of coffee and move to the door not exactly knowing what to expect on the other side of the door as Brooke pulled it open and Lucas hung back feeling chills ripple down his spine at the thought of meeting his son for the first time. Then the door opened and a different ghost from his past stood in the doorway. Peyton Sawyer.

"Peyton, hey. What're you-?" Brooke starts before the golden haired record producer's cuts her off.

"I think this belongs to you," she says her extended arm retracts bringing the teenager she had by the arm into view.

"Mhm," Brooke says taking him by his other arm and pulling him into the house. "Thanks P. Sawyer."

"Anytime B. Davis," Peyton says giving her best friend a hug before turning to leave.

"Tell Jae I'll be seeing her," Caine calls out from behind his mother with that up to no good smirk.

Brooke Davis turned to her son, eyes wide at the implications of how Peyton wound up coming across him. He'd been with Jae, the daughter of his father's ex-girlfriend. He really was his father's son.

**Please Review!  
Next Chapter Kick off summer with the Scott Family Barbecue and meet the rest of the second generation!**

**VFBFan – Glad you liked it and your flashbacks are coming I promise!  
BrOoKe DaViS—Glad I've got you interested!  
Pam—Well I'm glad you reviewed and glad you're interested.  
bobolina—Hope Lucas's return didn't disappoint!  
dianehermans—hope you liked the little Brucas moments and I didn't disappoint.**


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